Good Vibrations
by Dakx
Summary: Arkin Goode is a 17 year old who is just discovering his mutant identity. He travels to the Xavier Institute to finish up his schooling, and immediately hits it off with some of the students. Others, not so much. But what can you expect when you're the new guy?
1. Chapter 1

Arkin looked out the window as they approached the front gates to the place he would call home for the next year of his life. If he squinted, he could just make out the mansion. It looked both austere and lavish amongst what felt like miles of open grassland, and beyond that, trees. As they drove closer, the details of the building grew clearer. It was impressively massive, and everything appeared extremely well kept; finer than anything he was used. He grew uncomfortable, fearing that if the place was swarming with house cleaners and the like, he wouldn't last a week. He wondered, willing the nervous beating of his heart to a normal rhythm, how many people it housed, and if something this big could ever really feel like a home, and not a fragile museum where things were on display.

The vehicle stopped, and once outside, Arkin took a moment to admire the institute up close while the driver got out his luggage from the trunk. He wondered in passing how long it had taken to build such a place, and if the owner had anything to do with the design. When the driver handed him his bags, he thanked him and, breathing in deeply, carried his suitcases up the stairs and through the entrance.

His first impression was that his fears had been right. The first thing he saw was an elaborate red and gold carpet, a grand staircase that split off to two sides; two fine marble statue on either side. There didn't appear to be anyone to greet him, and so, after several moments of waiting, he set his luggage upright and began quietly to explore...It didn't look lived in. In fact, despite being extremely beautiful, everything seemed rather dark, and gloomy, like something he would expect to see in a ghost film. The ceiling, along with the lit candles in candleholders on the walls made him feel as though he were in a cathedral. He half expected to see an assembly of hooded monks to stroll by, swinging rosaries in hand.

"You must be Arkin Goode," a man said. However, Arkin did not stir. He continued exploring, looking cautiously down a long hallway. After several seconds, he suddenly spun around, a bewildered gaze settling on the Professor.

"How did you do that?" Arkin demanded, startled.

"_I can communicate telepathically_," the man responded. He was a stern-looking man with severe brows but kind eyes. He did not walk as other men, as he was confined to a wheelchair.

"You were the one who contacted my parents," Arkin realized, giving him a once-over. He signed as he spoke.

"Correct, " he answered, this time verbally. He smiled gently, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "And you can read lips extremely well. My name is Charles Xavier. I am the headmaster here."

"So I gathered."

Again, the man smiled. "If you'll follow me, I will show you around. You can leave your bags for now. Do tell me if I'm speaking too fast, won't you?"

"Sure," he murmured, walking alongside the Professor down a hallway.

It was even bigger than he imagined. The Professor showed to him two elaborate studies, one full to bursting with books, the other with a fireplace. For such a huge place, he expected more of a chill, but in reality, the mansion was very comfortable. The more the Professor showed him, the more he saw the signs of life, ranging from Science books on the sofa, to half-empty soda cans on the kitchen counter.

"Where is everyone?"

"Now, you'll meet the others once they've returned from school. I thought it might be best to fill you in, and let you explore on your own first. You'll start classes with them Monday morning."

That was a relief. When it came to meeting new people, he never really did give a good first impression. Everyone said he was either too quite, or tried too hard to show off in front of the girls. He was about to ask about the school itself when a beautiful, dark-skinned woman appeared. She had brilliant, flowing white hair, a rich green pantsuit and a thick, colorful headband. She also had dark purple-ish eyes, which Arkin thought were also unusual, and big gold hoop earrings in each ear.

"Ah, Ororo." The professor gestured to her and she came up behind him, resting her hands on his chair. Arkin frowned, and watched the Professors lips even harder. He also quickly and discreetly tried to finger spell all the possibilities of her name, since he had never heard it before. "She is one of the instructors here at the institute."

She smiled the same kindly smile the Professor had, and offered her hand. "It's nice to meet you. If Ororo is too hard for you," she told him, clumsily spelling out **O-R-O-R-O**, "you can call me Storm."

"Yeah, thanks. I knew I wasn't going to get it right." She laughed heartily at his relief, and though he could not hear her laugh, he thought it was nice. He decided he liked her. "Storm. Is that a codename, or something?"

"Yes, we all have them. The longer you're around, and the faster you advance in your training, the sooner—"

Just then, a thunderous rumble shook the mansion.

"Did you guys feel that?!" Arkin exclaimed, wondering what on Earth could have caused it. It couldn't have been an earthquake, could it? And why did he seem to be the only one freaking out about it? He stared at them wide-eyed, hands in tight fists, waiting for some sort of explanation. Maybe they were hearing something he couldn't.

After the rumbling died down, the Professor sighed and righted himself in his chair. "That would be Logan, another instructor here. You'll meet him later. Storm, would you…?"

"Of course, Professor." She nodded once to Arkin and briskly walked off, her long white hair bouncing behind her.

"Wait, _one guy_ caused that? What did he do, blow something up? Is there a firing and_ bomb_ range in the back?"

The Professor waved a hand to get his attention. "It's a bit complicated, unless I explain everything else first. Follow me to my study, and I will tell you all about this place, the people who live here, and what we stand for."


	2. Chapter 2

"Kurt, cut it out! I mean it!"

"Vhat? I'm not annoying you, am I, Keetty?"

"Yes!"

There was never any mistaking when the younger X-Men returned from school. One by one, Kitty, Kurt (chased by Kitty), and Rogue filed inside. In his hand, Kurt held a sheet of paper. Grinning ear from ear, he held it above her head, laughing at every attempt to snatch it she made.

"Kurt, you are so immature," Rogue said to him, her eyes following Kitty's every jump, though she didn't attempt to help at all.

"Lighten up, Rogue."

"Whatever." With folded arms and a look of disinterest, she watched the exchange. At least until Kurt lost his balance due to laughing so hard, and bumped into her. Then she became involved. "Hey, watch it!"

"Oops! Sorry Rogue!" For a moment, Kurt was too distracted by her raised fist to notice Scott and Jean approaching them. In an instant, Scott had snatched the paper from him and handed it back to Kitty, who smoothed the wrinkles and held it against her chest protectively, looking positively livid.

"Thanks, Scott," she murmured, and picked up her book bag. She quickly ascended the stairs as everyone watched.

Rogue scoffed. "Good going."

Kurt tilted his head, confused. "Keetty, vait! Is she really mad at me?"

Jean shrugged. "I would be, if I worked really hard on something and thought it would get ruined."

A look of concern was in his eyes as he insisted, "I vasn't going to ruin it, I vas just playing!"

Scott glanced up and nodded his head at the stairs. "Better go tell her that, if you ever want her to talk to you again."

Rogue rolled her eyes and, unfolding her arms, dismissed herself from the conversation. She walked irately up to her room and slammed the door.

So much for being mature, Kurt thought. Instead, he said, "she's mad at me, too, ja?"

"Well, you do have that effect on people," Scott chimed in.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Jean assured him. She tussled his hair, watching amusedly as he struggled to pull away. "She's been in a bad mood all day."

"I guess I better go apologize…to both of zem." Kurt made his lips thin and blew air out either side, blowing his hair out of his face as Jean giggled. He groaned and vanished in a puff of smoke.

* * *

Thanks to the thoughtfulness of the Professor, he had had most of the day to wander around the institute and familiarize himself with everything. He had had the chance to meet Storm, as well, and although he knew Logan existed, he hadn't seen even so much as a shadow to indicate he was around. Now, however, he was about to meet two of Xavier's top students, the two he had heard most about during the time he and the Professor had chatted.

Jean was a beauty, with long, shiny red hair and sharp green eyes. She had a strong nose and small pink lips, and looked as though she could throw a football (or a punch) without a moment's hesitation. She looked nice enough.

Scott, on the other hand, was hard for him to read, mainly due to the sunglasses. The Professor seemed to sense his difficulty understanding Scott, and offered an explanation. "Scott has the ability of energy manipulation. In short, he can absorb certain types of energy and release it in a concentrated beam from his eyes."

"The sunglasses help me so I don't fry everyone I look at," Scott added, somewhat cynically. There was a small sad smile in the corner of his mouth.

"What if someone knocks them off?" Arkin asked. "What happens then?"

"I close my eyes and hope for the best."

"I see…"

"And I'm Jean. Telepath." She took his hand and squeezed it softly. "The Professor has told us all about you."

"Yeah, he's told me about you guys, too."

"You're going to like Bayville," she said confidently.

"Yeah?"

"At least until The Brotherhood find out you're new, and one of us," Scott commented dryly.

Jean rolled her eyes and took Scott's arm, saying something to him that looked like 'don't start,' but he couldn't be sure. It was then that, for the first time, Arkin considered that Jean and Scott were a couple. The more he watched them interact, the more he was sure of it.

"The Brotherhood?" Arkin cocked a brow and glanced uncertainly at the Professor.

"Ah, yes. The Brotherhood…" The Professor waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sure the other students will fill you in."

"How many more are there?"

All of a sudden, Arkin felt a chill across his back. He turned, and found himself face to face with something dark, deep blue, and two strikingly yellow eyes. Instinctively, he took a step back, bumping into Scott and Jean. At that very moment, Kitty, who had been watching the group chat for several minutes, decided she might as well come and introduce herself.

"Oh! Is he ze new student?" Kurt asked, either completely oblivious, or pretending to ignore Arkin's distress.

"Yes. This is Arkin."

Arkin glanced behind him, feeling a hand on his shoulder. It was Scott. "This is Kurt."

Kurt was smiling, looking quite friendly, despite his appearance. "Hello!"

"Uh, Hey. I'm Arkin."

"Ja, nice to meet you. Ze Professor has told us all about you. How do you like it here zo far?"

There was a moment of silence in which Arkin felt his face grow warm, and his heart leap into his throat. Very few of these situations had ever occurred, but every time one did, it was just as humiliating as the last. He had no clue what Kurt had said to him. He could not pull a single bit of sense out of what was said, and part of him felt horribly embarrassed for himself, but another part of him felt embarrassed for Kurt. Ordinarily, he understood 60-70% of what was said to him; he longer he was around someone, the better he did, but with Kurt, the only word he understood was "you," and that wasn't doing him any favors.

Finally, he confessed. "I…can't understand a single thing you said. I'm sorry." A flicker of hurt flashed across Kurt's face, and Arkin felt as though he would love to spend the rest of his life under a rock. "Even with hearing aids, my lip reading isn't 100% accurate…but don't worry, I'm sure the more we hang out, the better I'll get."

Kurt nodded, smiling politely, but the damage was already done, and boy, was it evident. Maybe it was all the fur, but Arkin felt like he had just kicked a puppy. "I forgot about...ja, sorry."

"It's cool."

"Maybe ve can sit togeser at lunch?" Kurt offered.

Processing, processing…lunch? "Yeah, that would be cool. I'm not going to know anyone, and sitting alone is always…"

"Awkward," they both said at the same time, and then grinned.

Arkin, Kurt, Jean and Scott talked a bit more, mostly about school. It was difficult keeping up, having to watch three sets of lips, but everyone was patient and didn't seem to mind repeating themselves. As it turned out, he and Kurt had quite a bit in common, and actually, Kurt reminded Arkin of his little brother back home. It made being away from home feel a little more welcoming.

After a while, Jean said she had homework to get to. "See you later."

"Are those two dating?" Arkin murmured to Kurt, who nodded. He was slightly disappointed, but tried not to show it.

A short, thin brunette girl with pretty blue eyes tapped him on the shoulder. "Wow, he's cute."

He wasn't sure, but out of the corner of his eyes, Kurt did not look at all pleased that Kitty was being so friendly toward him.

"Hi," he said.

"I'm Kitty. You're the new guy, right? Marcus or something like that, right?"

She sure was friendly, but he got the feeling she wasn't the smart one in the group. Cute, though.

"His name is Arkin," The Professor told her.

"That's a weird name," she said rather bluntly. He actually laughed. He liked this girl already.

"Thanks."

"Oh, hey, you're signing!"

"Yep," he said.

"I totally forgot about that."

Then finger spelled **O-K.** "It's okay."

"Hey, I learned some sign language in school once. Wanna see?" What followed really made his day. It was commonplace for people to come up to him and awkwardly try to sign to him, but this took the cake. This was the funniest thing anyone had ever signed to him, except for when his little brother was learning his ABCs in sign and kept mixing up his D's and F's, and continuously called the "dog" a "fog," and a "fork" a "dork." It was hilarious, and he couldn't help but laugh.

He knew what she was_ trying_ to sign, but "hello, my name is Kitty" wound up being "hello, my eggs are Pitty."

"Well, I didn't say I was very good!" Kitty said, looking mildly angry and a little embarrassed. "It's been a while."

He actually had tears in his eyes. "Oh, no, look…I'm sorry, it's just…"

"Was I really that off?"

"You said your eggs' name was Pitty. I knew what you were trying to say. The mistakes you made are common, see, K is like this, and P is like this. Similar, right? And with name, you tap twice. With eggs, you tap once and break away."

"Maybe I am a little rusty," she admitted, mimicking the letters. "I learned that back in third grade, I think."

"It was pretty bad," he agreed, his laughter finally dying down to a contained chuckle. "But you get an A for effort."

"Well, you'll just have to teach me, then," she told him, and something about the way she said it made it seem like a challenge.

"I think that's a good idea," Scott chimed in. "We should all learn to sign a little. It might help, especially if you're having trouble reading our lips."

The Professor nodded. "I'm sure it gets very tiring."

"It does."

"Well, then, if anyone is interested in learning, perhaps I could bring in a tutor."

Arkin's hand shot up. "Or I could teach them. It would probably be easier. My younger brother learned a lot better at home, instead of the private tutoring my parents signed him up for."

"Sounds great! Except…how is Kurt going to do it?"

Kurt had three fingers. That was a shock. In the beginning, he was so freaked out by the dark, deep blue of his face, and then enjoying getting to know him so much that he hadn't paid attention to his hands.

Again, Kurt looked bashful, the spotlight now focused on him. He laughed weakly, putting his hands behind his back.

"There's no reason you can't learn. You can just modify."

"Really? You sink I can?"

After several moments, he finally said: "sure. Some people only have one hand, so they do one-handed sign. I'm sure we can adapt a three-fingered version."

"If you all like, we can discuss this in further detail later. However, some of you have homework. Kurt and Kitty, you two have dinner tonight."

Kitty sighed. "Okay..."

"Oh, and good work today in class, Kitty."

"Thanks, Professor. I studied like crazy."

"It shows."

Content with finally being recognized for all her hard work, Kitty smiled and headed off. "See you later."

Arkin gave a tiny wave. "Bye."

"Kurt?" The Professor was looking at him. "Don't you have homework, as well?"

"Yes, Professor…" and he was gone.

Scott was next to take off. "See you later, Arkin, and welcome to the group."

The mansion was as big and empty as it had appeared when he had first arrived. All that remained were he and Professor Xavier. The openness felt strange, and the air felt thick and suffocating. To fill it, Arkin commented that the students seemed nice.

"There are others; Rogue, Jamie, and Bobby, two of our youngest here…but you'll meet them later. I suggest you finish unpacking now. There will be plenty of time to get to know everyone."

Arkin nodded, and Professor Xavier wheeled away. Alone at last, he took the stairs two at a time, and, wondering whose room was whose, locked himself away in order to mentally prepare himself for Monday. The schools always provided a translator, and it was always humiliating.


	3. Chapter 3

Arkin would have made it to his first class, except for the fact that his translator (also known as his "assistant," in an attempt to make the fact that a middle-aged woman would shadow him all day, every day, a little less demeaning) insisted on "ironing out" details with the principal, who though wore a blank expression, was clearly becoming more and more annoyed.

"I understand that." Ms. Darkhome was an intimidating woman, with smart-looking hair and a fervor for old-lady jewelry. Arkin sensed she was a straight forward person, with a short fuse. "This is the best offer you're going to get. Take it or leave it."

When she was especially irritated, her eyebrows climbed high up onto her forehead.

Mrs. Connor frowned, and a short staring contest ignited between the two women. He wasn't even sure what they were arguing about. He thought Mrs. Connor said something about computers, but since he wasn't involved in the conversation, they spoke around him, verbally. He decided he didn't like this woman, especially if she wasn't going to clue him in to things that involved him. "Fine. I accept—for now. But if you expect me to…"

Arkin sighed dramatically and sunk into his chair, looking anywhere to keep his mind active…not that there was much to look at. The woman's office was dark and plain, no family photos on the desk, no school-related posters tacked to the walls, nothing. It was kind of depressing. Finding nothing of interest, he turned back in to the conversation again. Still a bunch of lip-flapping and no solutions.

Not that he was especially excited to get to class, but watching these two go back and forth was getting boring. It wasn't until minutes later that he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Mrs. Connor began signing to him the moment Ms. Darkhome began speaking. "I'm sorry for the delay. Just ironing out some…details. Welcome to Bayville, Mr. Goode," she smiled a most peculiar smile and leaned across the desk to shake his hand, "we are very happy to have you."

**What was that about?** Arkin signed to Mrs. Connor when they were out of the office.

The woman shrugged helplessly, and signed something to the effect of **annoying cow.**

He checked over his schedule as they walked down the halls, and at some point classes must have switched over, because the halls were swarming with people. Mrs. Connor told him she would meet him at his second class, and vanished in the sea of people. It was nice to finally be alone.

The school didn't look so bad. It was certainly nicer than his old school, but then, the kids here looked as though they were all upper-middle class, too. Just something about the way they carried themselves.

As he was swapping out books from his locker, suddenly there was someone beside him. At first, he had no idea who this weird kid was grinning at him like a lunatic. Then he remembered it was Kurt, and his cloaking device. It still came as a shock to him that the Kurt he met at the Xavier Institute walked around a regular high school with regular people, and no one was the wiser.

"Hey," Kurt said. "How do you like it so far?"

Arkin's eyes followed a cute girl pass by. He returned the grin. "Not bad."

"Did you find your classes OK?"

Frowning, Arkin didn't understand until Kurt pointed to his schedule.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I have…" he held the crumpled paper up and scanned it. "History next."

"Let me see?" Kurt took the piece of paper. "Hey! We have math together. All right!"

"I hate math," Arkin groaned.

Kurt grinned and clasped him on the shoulder. "Ah, you'll survive. And we have the same lunch hour. It won't be so bad, really."

"I guess—" he realized the crowd was beginning to disperse, and Kurt was looking up at the ceiling.

"Bell," he explained, handing him his schedule back. "OK, see you later, ja?"

"Yeah, see you later."

"Good luck."

* * *

History class, thus far, was going pretty well. Mrs. Connor had snagged them two seats in the back, near the door, where Arkin was still able to read lips, and discreetly ask to be filled in on what he couldn't understand. Mrs. Connor was set up next to him, tapping away at her laptop. The one nice thing about having an aid was he always had notes. The downside was he didn't always pay very good attention because of them.

The teacher was kind enough to alert the class that they had a new student, but pushed on with the lesson thereafter, and while a few were probably wondering why he was sitting in the back with a grown woman, most of them didn't seem to notice. After a while, the teacher stopped talking and everyone read several paragraphs from their textbooks. Arkin was a quick reader, and as one of the first few done, he took the opportunity to look around while Mrs. Connor took notes on the chapter.

Some people kept on reading, while others carefully sent and received text messages or blew bubbles with chewing gum. One boy stuck his tongue out, playing with what looked like a freshly pierced tongue. One or two jocks in the middle, from the looks of their jackets. Fairly normal bunch of kids, but none of them looked like someone he would want to hang out with. Then again, he thought, looking over at Mrs. Connor, he doubted many people would approach him with her sitting next to him. Arkin sighed.

The class ended with a short Q and A session where everyone was divided into teams. The idea was neat, but Arkin didn't like the fact that everyone had to participate. The teacher fired off several questions he didn't comprehend at all, because as far as he knew, they had nothing to do with what they had spent the entire class reading about. People were staring as Mrs. Connor signed the questions to him, in case he wasn't grasping everything, and Arkin's face was warm and red.

"What is the capitol of China?"

A girl who sat in front of him raised her hand. The teacher shook his head.

"Anyone? Capitol of China?" his dark eyes scanned the crowd. "Mr. Goode?

Mrs. Connor signed the question to him, although he already understood it, and quickly signed the answer back. "Beijing," she answered for him.

"Beijing. Correct."

And suddenly the people who were staring before were smiling. He still felt like he could stick his face in a bowl of ice cream and melt it, but at least they weren't giving him weird looks anymore. It went on like that for a while, until a team was declared the winner, and then everyone went back to their seats and started packing up.

Judging by how quickly everyone packed their things away, Arkin guessed it was time to get this next class, and if Mrs. Connor hadn't been there to grab his attention, he might have gotten up and strolled out like a jerk. He was thankful for that, at least. All at once every student stood up and filed out the door like a wild stampede, laughing and talking, forgetting all about the weird kid who didn't speak. Arkin was just getting his things together when he noticed a shadow over his desk. It was the teacher, a tall, black, smiling bald man with glasses.

"Was everything okay?" he asked. "I wasn't going too fast, was I? I got the feeling you were a little lost. Is there anything I can do to make things easier? I've never worked with a…I'm sorry, I don't know the correct term."

"Deaf," Mrs. Connor supplied.

"…I've never worked with a deaf student before. How'd I do?"

Arkin shrugged and gave him the **OK** sign. "Not bad."

The man looked visibly relieved. He seemed very friendly, and eager to please. He was probably very popular with his students.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Mr. Turner." He took and kissed Mrs. Connor's hand.

Arkin tried not to let his discomfort show through.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Turner. We'll see you tomorrow."

Mr. Turner chuckled and held the door open for them. Nice guy, but weird taste in women.

* * *

Lunch food was like hospital food, Arkin surmised. No matter how ritzy the place was, the food was all the same: terrible. He and Kurt were sitting at a circular table. Kurt was nice enough to share half his sandwich, since "nobody warned you about the food?"

The rest of his lunch wasn't bad—the mashed potatoes and the French fries, but the…Salisbury steak? Whatever it was, it was chewy and cold and couldn't even pass for pet food.

The lunch room was huge, which was a big plus. More places to sit, and less likelihood of ending up sandwiched between two people who hated you, and across from someone who for reasons unknown became weirdly interested in you. The nicest part was being able to relax. The first few days in an unfamiliar place were always Hell. He was always so apprehensive, and tense, and his butt always ached from sitting so stiffly in the classroom chairs.

"Next time you need to bring your own, though," Kurt said. "I can't bail you out every lunch period."

"Don't worry, I'm not making **that** mistake again." They both looked at the slab of meat and exchanged grossed out faces.

They chatted a little more when out of nowhere came Kitty, plopping down at their table. "Hi guys! How's—ew, are you actually eating that?"

"No."

"Oh, good…I was going to say, it's been like, nice knowing you."

Arkin finished what was left of the half a sandwich Kurt gave him when he noticed Kitty was waving her hand around in his face like a mad woman. "What!" he grunted, indicating that his mouth was a kind of busy.

She pointed across the room where Mrs. Connor sat, eating her own lunch and reading a novel. "Is that the lady who the school hired to help you out?"

He didn't like the way she worded that…but decided to be nice. "Yeah."

She had a look on her face Arkin didn't quite understand. "She could use a make over."

She was a painfully thin woman with short blonde hair, misty blue eyes, and tiny nose. Her front teeth were crooked, you could hardly notice. Arkin nearly laughed when he realized what she was wearing was eerily similar to what Kitty was, except for her shoes and a knitted jacket.

"…laughing at?"

He wiped the grin from his face, shook his head. "Nothing."

Kitty regarded him a moment longer. "I don't believe you, but I have to go and get ready for cooking class."

"Don't you mean home-ec?"

Kitty frowned and stormed off. "They're two different things!"

Kurt's expression looked strained. "Keetty isn't very, um…well, you'll see."

When they were finished with lunch, Arkin met Mrs. Connor at his next class. It was more or less the same as all his others. He spent most of his time drawing doodles in the corners of his notebook paper, wondering what his family was up to back home.

* * *

_Kurt's accent kind of died on me. I'm not very good with things like that, sorry._


End file.
